


Vanishing Point

by efnisien



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/efnisien/pseuds/efnisien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel returns to the fold.  AU post-"Hero."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanishing Point

Mostly he drew, after. Sketches: a finger in the street's grit, dropped pencil stubs, leaky pens that smeared black blots on the paper. There was paper aplenty, too: movie posters ripped at the edges, flyers, crumpled envelopes notes already scribbled on their backs.

He sketched people from every conceivable angle, in every conceivable pose. After all, he had a terrifyingly thorough grounding in the limits of human anatomy. He wasn't unaware of the mathematics of perspective, but the converging lines reminded him of the second terminus of human existence. And he had always been more interested in people. By dissecting him with their eye he reminded himself he was no longer one of them.

Cordelia found him on the day before Thanksgiving. The night was not yet cool--it had been an unusually warm day even for Los Angeles--but she wore a sleek, dark red coat. Of course he recognized her laughter, even over the roar of passing traffic and the chattering crowds. Something in him eased to find out that Cordelia was still capable of laughter. He couldn't tell what she was saying. Nothing to do with him, surely--

\--and there she was, shoving through the crowd with only the occasional terse "excuse me" or "sorry." Trailing in her wake was a tall, dapper Hispanic man made slightly less dapper by the frown lines at his forehead. Everything about his attire screamed money, which made him a perfect match for Cordelia. Or at least a perfect guy to pay the bill for one date's worth of fine dining.

Angel let the slip of paper in his hand flutter to the sidewalk and casually began walking away. Despite over two centuries' worth of practice making sudden disappearances, he had no luck. He felt her hand at his shoulder, saw her looking up at him with startlingly anxious eyes.

"Angel!" Cordelia said. "You're still alive! Or as alive as you ever get."

He cleared his throat and peered over the crowd to see where the man following her had gone. "Cordy, you seem to have lost your date." His voice surprised him with its scratchiness.

"Javier is a total sweetie," she said, "but I haven't seen you in months! Were you trying to worry me to death?"

"I needed the time--"

"You always have time," Cordelia snapped. "You'll have time when I'm a fossil. You have to work with people in the now."

"Cordy, I--"

"What do you think has been happening to me all this time?"

Angel looked at her steadily. This didn't impress her as much as he had hoped. "I assumed you'd returned to your path to eventual stardom--"

Javier had caught up to them. "I can't tell whether this gentleman is bothering you or you're bothering him," he said, with a wry, wary smile at Angel. Angel thought it might be possible to get along with this person, which was good since his original plan of making a getaway was shot.

"This," Cordelia said, with an appalling disregard for discretion, "is the man who stuck me with the visions."

Angel's blood would have gone cold if it had been able to. "The what?"

"He's not always this slow on the uptake," Cordelia added to Javier. "The ones that Doyle passed on to me, silly."

Angel took a closer look at her face. Despite the expert application of cosmetics--he was willing to bet that she'd spent over an hour on the blending alone--she looked too thin. Wan. Her eyes were too dark, her hair less lustrous. "I had no idea," he said, faltering.

"No, you were too busy having your own crisis of conscience. You think Doyle didn't matter to me too?" she demanded.

Javier patted her, rather ineffectually, on the shoulder, a sentiment Angel shared but was not about to express.

"Well, now that I've found you, it's time to start again," Cordelia said.

Angel blinked. "You'll be next to die," he said bluntly.

Her mouth thinned, then relaxed. "Yeah, me not being immortal and all. You think I haven't thought about that? But these visions are here and there are people to help. Doyle would have wanted it."

Angel opened his mouth to reply.

As if she needed to build a stronger case, she added, "Besides, this isn't exactly my redemption it's all about."

"Maybe it's not about anyone's redemption," Angel said, and murmured apologies to a couple people in the crowd as he snatched the paper back up. "Maybe it's about doing what you can while you can."

He might survive Cordelia, and the people after her, but he had to keep faith that he would have friends even at the far end of the future.


End file.
